The Grey Havens
by Samwise-the-brave1
Summary: Samwise Longs the seas to pass to the White shores of the Undying Lands to be with his master once more...read, review and enjoy!


  
  


"A longing for the Seas" 

-C.R.T.White  
  
  
And so he sits alone at his desk, dreaming of the days gone by and forever lost. Time seemed to drift by painfully slow, slower then ever expected, causing the wounds left within him to burn with a fiery sting as if the flames could never be tamed by the gentle relief of a cool spring shower.

The days of winter were finally approaching. The bitter cold winds from the north kept his weakened and shaken heart as cold and as frail as a roses' brittle leave, lacking the nourishment of water and sunshine. How sweet that rose once smelt, spilling its lovely sweet sent onto meadow, kissing the nose of the noble sparrow. 

The sun that once shined its warm rays upon her lovely petals, has now gone into the cold shadows beneath the heavens. The stars never shone...no warmth from the heavens had this rose ever seen since its sunshine had crossed the seas to the west. 

The barren gardens of the Shire had taken a beating at his heart, making it hard for him to draw a breath without a great feeling of pain within. ''Why try anymore? I've done what I had too. Why didn't you let me follow you across the seas?'' Such questions were forever on his mind.

Every morning was just another painful reminder of the hurt within him he'd feel again and again until it was his time. Never again would he greet the morning with a smile, nor did he welcome the sun's rays that warmed his gentle face through the window at daybreak. 

Getting out of his dark room was difficult. He'd not the will to get up. Laying in bed, motionless and full of the memories of the better of times he'd seen seemed to lighten his heavy heart. The corner of his lips would often curl into a slight smile remembering times passed when his Master and He were living happily in Bag End. Yet when these memories of happiness came to him, the sadder times seemed to always ruin the happiness he briefly found. 

He could remember the days when he'd waken to welcome the blessed sun's rays that shone. The sun use to shine for him it seemed. He had everything he could have ever drempt of. A beautiful home on the heightest point of the Shire, a home that he could finally call his own. He lived with his lifelong friend, Master Frodo, keeping to his word to always be there for him. And there was his Rosie, his lovely wife. No star in the heavens shone brighter then she. 

He was the luckiest Hobbit in all Middle Earth for having everything dear to his heart within his reach. Never again would he leave the Shire, Rosie, or his Master. Life had finally come together, or so he'd thought. Never could he ever imagine in his wildest dreams that it wasn't meant to be that way forever. He looked up at the sun, still finding no warmth in the rays that spilt upon his face.

The draft from the cold winter morning was the only thing he had noticed. Finally forcing himself out of bed, he slowly walked to the kitchen for a drink of water to clear out his dry throat. On his way he past the study. Looking in the dark room he frowned and lit a candle, resting it near the chair Frodo would often sit in when he was lost in thoughts. The last days he had spent in Bag End were dark days indeed. Sam could remember passing by this room several times, seeing his weak Master staring into the fireplace, a blanket covering his frail thin legs. His Master's hands tightly clasped around a cup of strong tea, the tea never touched, the only purpose was a slight relief from the bitter coldness he felt. Sam never fully understood Frodo's longing for the sea. Not until now...   
He felt the longing of the sea more then ever. He wished upon ever star for the once chance to see his Master again. ''Will I ever see you again, Master?'' he said in a soft whisper, staring at the candle he lit by his Masters empty chair. Sam shook his head sadly and turned toward the kitchen. 

The sweet smell of Roses still lingered in the thick air. The flowers left from yesterdays funeral were all Sam had left in remembrance of the joy he had left in Middle Earth. He left his letter to his children on the fireplace mantle and took his Master's old walking stick. On his back, he wore a heavy satchel that bore on it an animal skinned water container and a few pans. The last garment he put on was his tattered elven cloak, weathered and soiled from the times of travel. He clasped it together at the base of his neck with the beautiful elven broach given to him by the lady of the woods. 

A smile finally came slowly across his face as the tears collected in his glittering blue eyes. Slowly the tears of relief fell down his pale cheeks. He took the remaining Roses with him and opened the big Green door. No regret or sadness did his heart feel now, only a feeling of nervous excitement. 

He walked to the new party tree that was now the largest and most admired tree in all the Shire. 'Twas a tree of the elven realm. And with the blessings of the Lady Giladriel it glimmered and grew with more valor then that of the elven realm itself. A rare tree indeed, and it was the final resting place of his Rosa-wife. Laying down the bundle of roses above his wife's grave, he bowed his head solemnly. 

''Sleep in peace my Rosa-wife...the Shire will forever be green for thee... You were always there for me Rosie, even while I was in the lands of shadow and darkness..and so you shall forever remain with me...sleep my sweet lass..sleep in peace... the stars and the moon shall watch over you when the sun leaves the sky... don't fear the darkness... I'm always with you...you'll always be in my heart..." Sam kissed the grave stone and ran his fingers along the letters engraved on upon it. He kissed the tombstone again and took a few steps back, his eyes never leaving the site of her final resting place. ''Goodbye...'' Sam managed to whisper over his tears. He turned around and made his last journey to the sea, where he would finally rest..


End file.
